


Curiouser and Curiouser

by DementedPixie



Series: Demented Pixie's Buckystuckyfanfic [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Awesome Howling Commandos, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e17 Hat Trick, Fix-It, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), time heist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:38:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedPixie/pseuds/DementedPixie
Summary: When Steve told Steve that Bucky was still alive he sparked off a sequence of events that would alter the future for more than one person.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lolli_lou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolli_lou/gifts), [bbsgirl1970](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbsgirl1970/gifts).



2012

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me.”

Steve stared across the glass walkway, straight into the eyes of his doppelganger, a 100% accurate mirror image of himself. What the hell? This could only mean one thing. Loki had evaded Thor and was trying to make his escape by impersonating whichever Avenger he ran into. Steve tried to spot any minute differences that must surely tell them apart, but it was impossible. There simply weren’t any. 

It was time to call it in. 

“I have eyes on Loki, 14th floor.”

Loki’s face took on a sincere expression as he put down the metal case. “I’m not Loki, and I don’t wanna hurt you.” Loki was working hard, not only did he sound like Steve, he spoke in the same manner. 

Well he wasn’t going to be allowed to do it for long. Steve attacked. 

The two men moved as one, their twin shields crashing together as the sound of tortured vibranium echoed around the vast atrium. A well guided kick or two and Loki was flying backwards to land on the floor. 

Well that was easy. 

“I can do this all day,” said Steve, trying not to sound smug.

Loki got up, breathing heavily. “Yeah, I know. I know.” At least now this guy wasn’t sounding quite so much like Steve.

Without another thought they hurled their shields at each other once more and the battle raged on, but every stroke Steve threw at his opponent was being matched with equal ferocity. 

As they crashed through the side wall of the walkway and down to the lower level, landing in a shower of broken glass, Steve’s most treasured possession suddenly appeared out of nowhere and skidded across the floor towards him. 

There was no way Loki should have that compass. It just wasn’t possible. Steve grabbed it and staggered to his feet. 

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

Ignoring the question, Loki lunged for the staff but Steve managed to overpower him before he could reach it, rolling the two of them across the floor with his foe in a choke hold. He squeezed his arm around Loki’s neck. If he could just get him to pass out for long enough…

Then came three words that rocked Steve’s world and changed it for ever. 

“Bucky… is… alive…”

He released his hold on Loki, momentarily stunned. 

“What?”

And that was the last he knew, as his whole body absorbed the power of a piercing blue light and the world around him faded to black. 

******

“He’s only asleep.”  
“How can you tell?”  
“Because he looks like he’s asleep.”  
“People who are unconscious look like they’re asleep. Hell, people who are dead look like they’re asleep.”  
“He’s not dead.”  
“Which means he might be unconscious?”  
“Stop waving that under his nose.”  
“But in my land this is the best cure for an attack of the vapours, my Mother swears by it.”  
“You’re saying he fainted. Captain America actually fainted. Well hold the front page.”  
“I merely believe this tincture will assist him in waking.”  
“Hey! Leave his foot alone.”  
“Aww come on, if he’s only asleep then me tickling his foot will wake him up. If he’s dead, then it won’t. It’s a test.”  
“Is this a code green? I can do a code green if it would help?”  
“No! No need for a code green. Jesus, man, he’s just asleep.”  
“Then why won’t he wake up?”

“Because he’d rather keep his eyes closed than deal with you guys?” suggested Steve, cranking his eyes open just the bare minimum needed. 

“At last! Sleeping Beauty awakes!” cried Tony. 

Steve took a deep breath and looked up into the circle of concerned faces peering down at him. 

“See?” said Bruce, extending a finger to poke Steve in the shoulder. “Not dead.”

“Sweet dreams?” asked Natasha, pursing her lips together. 

“Just one,” admitted Steve. “A real confusing one.”

“You back with us?” asked Clint, peering into Steve’s eyes. 

“Yeah,” replied Steve. “I’m with you.” He held out his hand and allowed Clint to heave him to his feet. 

“Good,” said Tony, patting Steve on the back as he regained his balance. “Because I am now, officially, hungry. And you guys promised me shawarma.”

******

“So, you’re trying to tell me this old war buddy of yours is still alive?” asked Tony, unwrapping his second kebab with care so that the contents didn’t spill out. 

The Shawarma joint was very local to the Avengers Tower which is a good thing if you want a quick kebab, but a bad thing if your city is being attacked by space aliens. In the aftermath of the battle it was lucky that the little restaurant was still standing at all.

“That’s what he said. But it’s crazy. All of it.” Steve pushed his food away, looking around at the devastation that the battle had caused. 

“Loki had to have put you under some kind of spell,” commented Natasha, looking about as tired and dishevelled as Steve had ever seen her. 

“That’s what I thought,” admitted Steve, “until I saw the compass. How could he have it?”

At the sound of a little bell dinging from the kitchen the waiter ceased sweeping the debris and brought another tray of food over, pushing aside some of the mess on the table to make room. 

“Thanks,” said Tony, handing over enough bills to keep even the grumpiest waiter happy. 

“My brother was not with you at that moment. He was with us, and then I personally delivered him to Asgard.” Thor stared at his food in confusion. 

“Then who was I fighting?”

“This man,” replied Thor. “You say he looked like you?”

“Exactly like me. Like we were twins. He fought like me, had the compass, had a shield like mine.”

“Well we know there’s only one of those in existence,” said Tony. “So that wasn’t Loki. It couldn’t have been.”

“Well it wasn’t me either,” said Steve. “There is only one of me.”

“Thankfully,” said Tony, with a tired grin. 

“Then there’s only one explanation” said Clint, causing them all to look at him. “It was another Steve from a different time.”

Natasha barked a laugh at him. “Time travel is impossible. All this greasy food has gone to your head.”

“It wasn’t long ago we thought an alien army attacking New York would be impossible,” replied Clint, waving his plastic fork at her. 

“They didn’t come from a different time,” she said.

“No,” said Thor, abruptly getting to his feet. “They came through a portal.”

Steve looked up at his friend. “Does that mean something to you?”

“I believe it does. I will return.” Thor strode to the door then paused, looking back at the table with regret. “Do you think I could get mine to go?”

******


	2. 2

“Mother.” Thor knelt at Frigga’s feet and kissed her offered hands, allowing her to pull him into an embrace. He relaxed into her arms, breathing in the scent of roses in her hair, relishing the softness of her velvet gown. For Thor, his Mother had always represented everything good and true in his world and, whenever he needed counsel, she would forever be his guide. 

“You could not have bathed before seeking me out?” she murmured. “You look like a building fell upon you.”

Thor smiled, pulling away from her slightly. “I admit to not bathing. Will you forgive me?”

“Only if the building came off worse than you did, my son.”

Frigga rose to her feet with her ever-present sense of grace, waiting for Thor to join her before linking her arm with his. “Walk with me,” she said. “Tell me what you need.”

“How did you know I didn’t just come to see you? I might not need anything.”

“I always know,” replied Frigga, as they moved to walk through the long, stone, colonnade. 

“And you’re always right,” said Thor, his eyes twinkling. “I am here to ask you something. It is about a prisoner.”

“Thor,” replied Frigga, stopping in her tracks. “You know I cannot discuss your brother’s imprisonment with you. Your Father would not allow it.”

“No, not Loki. When I brought him back as a prisoner, I knew it was the right thing to do no matter how hard it was.”

“Then who?”

“You mentioned to me a prisoner whom you described as a portal jumper. He was using his powers to steal from Father’s Throne Room?”

“Indeed,” replied Frigga, continuing with their stroll. “A strange character. From Midgard, I believe, but not a conventional Midgardian.”

“They are not usually known for their magic powers,” agreed Thor. 

“Precisely.”

“But you believe he came through a portal from Midgard?”

“I believe he came through a portal,” corrected Frigga, “but not necessarily from Midgard. Or at least, not from Midgard at this period in time.”

“Ah!”

“You wish to see him for yourself?”

“Yes. I do,” replied Thor. “I believe he may be of assistance to my friend, Captain Rogers.”

“Then bring Captain Rogers to me, and I will help all I can.”

Thor gifted his Mother with a loving smile. “You never fail me.”

“And I never will.” Frigga pushed him towards the large archway that opened to the sky, as he started to spin Mjolnir faster and faster. “Now go.”

******

It had been a trying day. Steve had been beaten up by space monsters, eaten way too much greasy Turkish food, and was now being flown through the air at great speed in the grip of a grinning Norse God. It was all too much. When they finally landed on the Asgard side of the Bifrost Steve fell to his knees, gasping as he tried his best not to throw up. It reminded him of going to Coney Island with Bucky, being teased into going on the Cyclone and immediately wishing he hadn’t. 

“And this is the great Avenger of which you speak?” boomed Heimdall, turning his sword to the left in order to close the Bifrost behind them. 

Steve raised his hand in defence. “Not my fault,” he managed to grind out before Thor grabbed him by the shoulder and heaved him to his feet. 

“Where is your Queen, Gatekeeper?” asked Thor, slapping Steve on the back, presumably in an attempt to make him feel better.

“She awaits you in the Dungeons,” replied Heimdall. “She visits your brother there.”

“Follow me, Captain,” instructed Thor, striding off down a gold lined corridor. 

Steve took a deep breath, pulling himself together, and proceeded to follow after him. He and Thor had always had a friendly rivalry and Steve wasn’t about to show him a weakness now. With long strides he quickly caught up with the flaxen haired God. 

“You didn’t tell me much before we left,” he said. 

“This opportunity presented itself to me,” replied Thor, his cape billowing behind him as he walked, “and I decided to act before anything altered. I understand this fallen comrade is very important to you.”

“He is, if it’s true.”

“I believe we may have a way to find out. Here are the dungeon cells.”

Steve looked around him, taking in the many dark tunnels and glass fronted cells. “All your enemies end up here?”

“All that survive. We are a just nation, Captain. We treat our prisoners fairly, unlike some. Ah, Mother. May I present to you my friend, Captain Steven Rogers.”

Frigga was standing in a corridor outside a cell, looking majestic and every bit a Queen. Steve gazed at her in awe.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. 

“Captain Rogers. I have heard much about you.”

Steve blushed and gave Thor a sideways look. “All good, I hope.”

“Mother will allow us to visit this Portal Jumper. I believe he is the key to finding your friend.”

“I don’t understand all this. Does he have some kind of time machine?” asked Steve.

“He has a hat,” replied Frigga, immediately raising her hands in front of her. “I know, I know. It has the appearance of a tale we tell the young ones around the fireside. But he can travel through it. We have seen him. And because of its power, Odin has it locked up for safety.”

“Well,” replied Steve, “I guess first we find out if he’s genuine. Then we worry about the hat.”

Frigga gestured to a nearby glass fronted cell. “This is the cell, but Thor,” her voice took on a warning tone. “Behave yourself.”

“Leave this to me,” said Thor, unlocking the door so that they could all enter. 

In the far corner of the cell, seated on the floor and curled up with his arms around his knees and his head lowered, sat a man. His hair was so long and matted that they couldn’t see his face and he didn’t look up when they entered. 

“You are the Portal Jumper?” asked Thor, his voice as loud and thundery as he could make it. “You will assist us in our quest.”

“Thor!” Frigga pointed at the door they had just come through. “Out.”

“But, Mother!”

“No. I am not even going to talk about second chances. Go outside and guard the door. Go!”

There weren’t many people who could tell the God of Thunder what to do but the Queen of Asgard was one of them. Like a child who had been told off for being naughty, Thor stuck his bottom lip out and stomped out of the doorway, slamming it shut behind him. 

Steve gave her a wary look. 

“You can stay,” she said, before he had a chance to ask. “But we will do this my way, or not at all.”

Steve nodded, and took a step back. 

Frigga moved towards the prisoner and pulled a simple wooden chair nearer before sitting down on it. 

“I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard. Will you do me the honour of telling me your name?”

There was silence for a moment or two and Steve wondered if the man was going to respond. But then his head raised slightly, and he looked through his hair at Frigga before mumbling a reply in a small voice. 

“Jefferson.”

“Jefferson.” Frigga smiled at him. “I am pleased to meet you.”

Jefferson still kept his head bowed, releasing his knees only for long enough to pull his long brown coat tight around him. “You are a Queen?”

“I am.”

“I don’t have much luck with Queens.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Still without raising his head, Jefferson put a finger inside the scarf that was wrapped around his neck and pulled it down to show her a scar that appeared to encircle his neck completely. 

“Because one cut my head off once,” he replied, before covering the scar with the silken material once more. 

Frigga glanced at Steve across the room, who shrugged his shoulders in silent reply. 

“And why did she do such a dreadful thing?” asked Frigga, softly. 

“I was betrayed, like I’m always betrayed.”

“How?”

“All I was doing was trying to make a better life for my daughter. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

“Is that why you were found stealing from Odin’s treasure room?” Frigga still kept her voice quiet, not wanting to sound judgemental. 

“I had to. I’ll never get Grace back if I don’t do as they ask.”

Jefferson still hadn’t looked up, so Frigga tried a different tack. 

“Would you tell me about Grace?”

He looked up, properly looked up, straight into Frigga’s eyes, and she looked straight into his tortured soul. 

“Why?”

“Because I would like to know of her. Would you like to tell me?”

“My Grace is my world,” he replied, nodding. “She’s so beautiful, and smart. Smarter than me. I wanted to give her everything but all she ever wanted was for me not to leave her. I promised her I’d come back, it was all she asked of me. All she needed was her Papa.” 

Jefferson’s eyes started to fill with tears and Frigga leaned forward, one hand stretched out towards him. “I did a deal,” he continued. “They said Grace would want for nothing but instead they tricked me. I… lost my head. Grace was adopted, they… they changed her name. The one person I love was ripped from me. And now I’m doing anything I can, trying to get back to her.”

Jefferson was openly crying now, tears running down his face, and Frigga slid off her chair to kneel beside him, reaching out her arms to embrace him. 

He uncurled from his position in the corner and allowed Frigga to wrap him up in her warmth, as he sobbed into her shoulder. 

“I promised her I’d be home for tea,” he hiccupped. 

“There, there,” soothed Frigga, petting his hair. “I am a Mother of two boys. I understand how children can be the cause of such heartache.”

Frigga allowed Jefferson to cry it out and Steve found himself moving slowly towards them, drawn in by the other man’s sorrow. 

After a few moments of near silence when Jefferson’s tears had almost stopped, Steve spoke.

“I was a sickly child,” he began, his voice soft. “I probably should have spent my days inside, in the warm, but I wanted to be like everyone else. I hated bullies at school and would get into fights, not always because they’d pick on me, but because they’d pick on others. And then one day there was this kid, he got them off me, gave this other boy such a punch on the nose… And we became best friends. His name was Bucky. And I thought he was dead, many years ago, but now there is a chance he’s alive, and I really need to find him. Because if he is alive, then he’s in big trouble. And I promised myself I would always be there for him, like he was for me. I think you know how that feels, Jefferson. Because I’ve had my best friend taken away from me just like you lost your little girl. Time has been cruel to us both, but maybe if we work together we can get them both back.”

Jefferson pulled away from Frigga and blinked up at Steve.

“You always make speeches like that?” he asked, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. 

Steve smiled at him. “I’ve been told I have a talent for it.”

******

Cape flapping behind him in a dramatic fashion, Thor guided them through the corridors that led to Odin’s vault. 

“Your Father isn’t going to like this,” muttered Frigga, as she produced a large golden key from the pocket of her gown and slid it into the lock. Quickly, and with minimum fuss, she gained entry and led them all inside, walking straight to a box set high into the wall. 

“It’s a little tall for me,” she admitted. “Thor?”

Thor reached up and opened the box, pulling out a somewhat battered, large, black top hat. 

“Yours, I believe,” he said, presenting it to Jefferson. 

“Wait,” said Steve, abruptly, raising his hand and preventing Thor from handing the hat over. “Let’s just get this straight. You take me back to a place and time where Bucky is alive, and you help me to bring him back, right?”

“Wrong,” said Jefferson, shaking his head. “Two go out, two have to come back. The hat’s rules. If we go out together, we can’t bring your friend back.”

Steve look crestfallen. “But you said…”

“No, I didn’t say anything,” he turned to appeal to Frigga. “Did I say anything?”

“No dear,” she agreed, with a smile. “You didn’t say anything.”

“I have no wish to hurry you,” said Thor, “but can I hurry you? This is not the best place for this conversation. Captain, take the hat, and let me transport you both back to Midgard so that you can establish your plan.”

“And if I help you, you’ll let me go?” asked Jefferson, his eyes wide. 

Steve paused for a moment, before reaching out to take the hat. “Agreed. You have my word that if we get Bucky back, you’re a free man.”

“A free man…” Jefferson blinked several times as if he couldn’t believe his luck. “Yes. I’ll help you. I promise.”

Steve held out his free hand to shake Jefferson’s firmly. 

“Then let’s get out of here,” said Thor, with some relief, as he moved back to the door and opened it. “Shall we?”

******


	3. 3

Settling the wheelchair by the open French windows so that its occupant got a good view of the garden, the nurse straightened the hand crocheted blanket over boney knees and paused for a moment. 

“Remember, Captain Rogers. Don’t tire him out, please.” She checked her watch. “Afternoon nap time in 30 minutes.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. We’ll remember.” Steve gave her his most sincere smile as he sat down on the sofa, pulling at Jefferson’s coat sleeve until he followed suit.

Steve leaned forward so that he could be seen clearly. “Gabe? You in there?”

For a moment or two Gabe Jones’ eyes were clouded as if he were having a distant dream. Steve took hold of his hand and squeezed it. “Gabe? It’s me, Steve.”

Gabe blinked once, twice, then came a flash of recognition as he looked straight into Steve’s eyes.

“Cap?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, Gabe. It’s me.”

“Steve, man, what the hell?” The man’s face broke into a wide toothy grin. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” replied Steve. “They looking after you well?”

“If you mean doping me up and treating me like a baby, then sure. Kids now days don’t know what we went through, what we’re capable of, you know? Hell, of course you do.”

“Yeah, I do. You’re looking good, Gabe.”

“I’m looking old. Unlike you.”

“I lost 70 years in the ice Gabe. I’m older than I look.”

“Don’t I know it.” Gabe nodded towards Jefferson. “Who’s this?”

“A friend,” replied Steve. “Jefferson, meet Gabriel Jones, Howling Commando.”

“Hello,” said Jefferson, shyly. 

“Gabe was the one who always got us out of hot water over in Europe because he spoke different languages. It also meant he could chat to the local ladies, right Gabe?”

“Is that why you’re here, Steve, to get a translation?” Gabe laughed at him. 

“Is it that obvious that we’re here for a reason?” 

“You could say that. Why don’t you come clean before that nice lady nurse comes back and makes me go back to bed.”

Steve took a breath, his face serious. “How old are you now, Gabe?”

“I’m 96 years young, Cap. But I guess you know that?”

“You told me something once. Something you didn’t tell anyone else.”

“Oh,” said Gabriel, his expression becoming serious. “That.” 

“Yes, that.” Steve smiled at him, reassuringly. “Did you ever go back after the War?”

Gabriel sighed. “I tried. Her Grandfather wouldn’t tell me where she was or let me see her. Said I’d disgraced her. I was American, and black. Not someone he’d always dreamed of inviting into the family.”

“It’s not like you to give up on something, Gabe.”

“What could I do, Steve? I wrote so many letters, got not one single reply back. And I got on a plane and went back to that little village in the Alps just as soon as I could. Things were different back then, no such thing as social media, you know? Her family closed ranks and I couldn’t break through. I had to let her go.”

“And the baby?”

Gabriel looked down. “And the baby.”

Steve gave Jefferson a meaningful look, and Jefferson pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket. With shaky hands, Jefferson held it out to Gabriel.

“What’s this?”

“Read it,” replied Jefferson. 

“Hah. There speaks a younger man. Read it for me, kid. I didn’t bring my glasses.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Jefferson cleared his throat and began to read. “This is a certified copy of an entry of birth pursuant to the Births and Deaths Registration Act 1923. Registration District Surrey Mid Eastern. Birth in the Sub District of Sutton in the County of Surrey. Where and when born 6th August 1945, Name, Gabrielle Agnes Petite, sex, girl, mothers name Christine Petite, Father’s name Gabriel Jones...”

“It’s okay, Gabe, it’s okay.” Steve leaned forward to his friend and pulled a folded cotton handkerchief from his pocket. “I never gave up on carrying one of these,” he said, handing it to Gabriel. “Here. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you like this.”

Gabriel dabbed the handkerchief at his eyes. “Why, Steve? Why tell me now? What good is this doing?”

Steve placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, grounding him while he pulled himself together. “Because she’s alive, Gabe. Her Grandfather sent Christine to London to have the baby but she went home again right after. I know where she lives Gabe, her and the kid. And I can take you there, as long as you promise me one thing.”

“What, Steve?”

“That you’ll be happy to stay there and never come back.”

Gabriel rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to concentrate. “Come back from Austria?”

“No, Gabe.” Steve looked him in the eyes and squeezed his shoulder again. “Come back from 1945.”

******

1945

Jefferson pulled his hat down on his head far enough to cover his ears, which were now freezing. 

“You didn’t say it was going to be this cold,” he said, jamming his hands into his coat pockets. 

“I’m sure I mentioned Austrian Alps at least three times,” snarked Steve. 

“Your Gabriel is in the right place.”

“Oh hell, yeah. Isn’t he though? That fireplace was bigger than my entire kitchen when I was growing up.”

“We did the right thing?” Jefferson chewed his bottom lip, nervously. 

“Absolutely,” Steve replied. “You saw the man. They were keeping him drugged and making him sleep most of his life away. Let alone making him sit in a wheelchair when he can walk just fine. He has no-one left back there, not anymore. And now he has a family who are happy to have him stay.”

“Good job too,” replied Jefferson. “I don’t know what we were supposed to do with him if they’d said no.”

“We would have taken him home and thought of something else,” said Steve, ever practical. “Now come on. I can’t tell you precisely where Bucky fell, but I can tell you where the nearest Hydra base is. If he really did survive the fall then they would have taken him there.”

“I know this is a… sensitive subject for you,” said Jefferson. “But wouldn’t Bucky have preferred to have been rescued before he fell from the train?”

“Let’s get moving,” replied Steve, starting to tramp through the snow with Jefferson trailing behind him. “It’s warmer if you move. And I told you, finding exactly the right time and place was difficult. If we’d tried to locate Bucky too early in the timeline, we risked not being able to leave Gabe here in exchange because he wouldn’t have met Christine. Too late and we would have lost track of Bucky completely. I don’t know exactly where Hydra took him. Hell, until recently I didn’t even believe he might still be alive. So this is the only clue I have.”

“Are you prepared for what you might find?” asked Jefferson, struggling a bit through the harsh terrain. 

Steve glanced back at him for a moment. “Not really,” he admitted. “But if he’s injured then we get him back to 2012 where the Avengers Tower has a modern medical unit.” Still looking at Jefferson, Steve noticed how much he was struggling. “Walk in my footsteps,” he suggested. “It’ll help.”

“You have longer legs than me,” complained Jefferson, but tried to follow Steve’s advice. 

Eventually, following Steve’s map and compass, they realised they were approaching what appeared to be a concrete bunker, half hidden in the snow. 

“Is that it?” asked Jefferson, taking his hand out of his pocket to point.

“Yeah.” Steve stopped dead in his tracks. “You should wait here.”

“Me? What? No, I’m coming with you. It’s warmer in there.”

“Oh, it’ll definitely be warmer,” replied Steve, unclipping his shield from his back magnet and strapping it to his arm. “Okay. If you’re sure. But stay close and try to keep behind me.”

It seemed to Steve that Hydra bases looked the same no matter where in the world they were found. Sombre and dark, way too much use of steel girders, high ceilings and lots of strange looking equipment that he’d never seen anywhere else. This base was no exception. The two men crept through the darkened corridors, sticking as close to the walls as they could. 

Running on the same instinct that had never yet failed him, Steve led Jefferson into the heart of the base. If Bucky was here, he’d be shut away somewhere quiet. Maybe a prison cell. Maybe another experimentation table like in Azzano. Steve shuddered at the thought.

Corridor after corridor, tunnel after tunnel…

“Steve,” whispered Jefferson, who was doing what he had been told to do and sticking close behind. “Steve. This place is empty.”

“These places are never empty,” hissed Steve. 

“Then where are the guards?”

“Keep looking. They’ll be here.”

Eventually Steve agreed to Jefferson’s suggestion that they split up in order to cover more ground. 

Steve took a doorway on the left, working his way around on high alert. Each room he checked was empty until, eventually, he stumbled over the source of what appeared to be a substantial disturbance. A table in the center of the room had been overturned, metal instruments spilt onto the floor and broken glass was scattered everywhere. 

His heart thudding in his chest, Steve’s gaze fell upon two bodies, both lying face down. With extreme caution, Steve edged towards them, checking for signs of life before finally letting out a sigh of relief as he realised that yes, they were dead and no, neither of them were Bucky. 

When he finally made his way back to the main door, Steve’s expression could only be described as crest fallen. 

“Nothing,” confirmed Jefferson, who looked like he had been waiting there a few minutes. “I’m guessing by the look on your face that wasn’t quite what you expected.”

“He has to be here,” replied Steve. “There is nowhere else locally they could take him.”

“Maybe the clue is the word ‘locally’.” Jefferson shrugged. “He’s not here, Steve, so either he’s not alive after all, or they must have shipped him out.”

“Dammit.” Steve kicked the wall, hard. “Just… dammit Bucky. Where are you?”

Jefferson twiddled his fingers together, nervously. “What do we do now?” he asked. “We can’t go back without him. Three came in, three must go back. Hat’s rules.”

“We’re not going back without him,” snapped Steve.

“That’s what I said,” agreed Jefferson. “We’re not going back without him. We can’t.”

Steve was usually a calm, controlled person during a battle, but even he had his limits. He pushed Jefferson against the wall, holding him by the scruff of his velvet collar, the force of the push causing the hat to fall to the ground. “I know what you said, but you don’t understand. I. Can’t. Leave. Him. Behind. Again. Got that?”

Jefferson cringed away from Steve, squirming in his effort to get away. “D… don’t. Please.”

Abruptly horrified by his own actions, Steve immediately let Jefferson go, bending down to pick up the hat and hand it back to him. “My God, I’m sorry,” he said, earnestly. “I’m really sorry.”

“You… you said you wanted us to work together.”

“I did.” Steve took a step back to give Jefferson space. “I do. This just means so much.”

“If he’s not here, it’s not my fault.”

“I know. I do know. I’m angry with myself for getting this so badly wrong and I took it out on you.”

Jefferson appeared to relax a little. “So, what do we do now?” he asked, quietly. 

“We go back. We need to work smarter, find another way.”

Jefferson cleared his throat. “Umm. We can’t go back. Three came in, three must go back.” He put the hat back on his head, perching it at a jaunty angle as he gave Steve a nervous smile. 

Steve narrowed his eyes and looked back down the corridor he had last explored. “I might just have an idea about that.”

******


	4. 4

2012

“This is a joke, right,” asked Tony. “I mean, if there’s any other trash you want me to dispose of, you know to just let me know? Isn’t the world crazy enough already without you bringing ancient dead bodies into my home?”

“Tony…”

“No, Cap, honestly. It’s fine. Maybe I’ve been going wrong all my life, maybe I should have become a mortician. Or maybe it’s like a cat?”

“What?”

“Cats bring dead mice and birds into their owner’s homes so they can teach them how to hunt. Is that what this is? Are you trying to teach me how to kill Hydra agents?”

Steve moved to once side as the clean up team lifted the body onto a gurney and proceeded to remove it from the room. 

“Look, Tony, I’m sorry. There was no other way to get back here,” Steve explained. 

“Three went in, three had to come back,” muttered Jefferson, quietly, as he stood to the side just behind Steve. 

“Your Sergeant Barnes was not there, I take it?” asked Thor.

“No. He wasn’t there,” admitted Steve. 

“But you travelled safely?” Thor turned to Jefferson. “The hat performed as expected?”

“Yes,” Jefferson nodded several times as he backed even further behind Steve. “Absolutely. The hat was perfect. It wasn’t my fault Steve’s Bucky wasn’t there, was it, Steve?”

“What? No Jefferson, it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault,” confirmed Steve, twisting round to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Jefferson nodded surreptitiously at Thor. “Prison,” he whispered. 

“No,” replied Steve turning to reassure his strange new friend. “You’re not going back to jail, I promise.”

“I thought I heard the gentle hum of chaos that could only mean you were back,” commented Natasha as she joined them. 

“Hey, Nat” replied Steve. 

“Steve.” She held out a buff cardboard folder that smelt of dust. “I called in a few favours from Kiev.”

“Is this what I think it is?” asked Steve, his eyes wide.

“If you think it’s the Hydra file on what happened to your friend, then yes.”

“My God, Nat. Thank you,” said Steve, sincerely. 

“Don’t thank me,” replied Nat, looking a little awkward at being the target of Steve’s gushing over the gift. “But you owe me.”

“Any time,” smiled Steve. 

“Now go and read it,” she said, “and Tony, leave him alone so he can.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” said Tony, all innocence. 

“Go,” said Natasha, ignoring Tony as her firm hand in the small of his back encouraged Jefferson to follow Steve out of the room. 

******

Apparently, you need sugar and carbohydrates in order to efficiently process complicated information. With this in mind Steve and Jefferson set up at the kitchen counter with a selection of sweet and savoury snacks spread out before them. 

“So,” said Jefferson, helping himself to a large slice of pepperoni pizza. “Where did this file come from?”

“I think that information’s on a need to know basis,” replied Steve, “and we don’t need to know.”

Jefferson reached out for one of the documents, but Steve quickly moved it out of his reach. 

“You wanna touch, go wash your hands.”

“Who do you think you are, my Mother?” grumbled Jefferson, stuffing more pizza in his mouth, defiantly. 

“You can read, just no touching.” Steve placed the document on the counter so they could both see it clearly. He opened the front cover and pressed it flat. 

Ten seconds was all it took for them both to give the same reaction. 

“Shit.”

The folder contained information that was difficult for Jefferson to absorb but for Steve, it was nothing short of devastating. 

Bucky was, indeed, still alive, and had been preserved cryogenically all these years so that he didn’t look his age. Just like Steve. But unlike Steve, Bucky had been tortured every year that had passed. 

As Steve continued to read, a sick feeling overtook any feelings of hunger in his stomach and he pushed the pizza and donut boxes away so he couldn’t smell the contents. 

The details of how Zola had replaced Bucky’s arm with a metal one made Steve gasp, and the graphic explanation of the brutal brainwashing, cryofreeze and torture his best friend had undergone made him go hot and cold with a sweat breaking out on his brow. 

And as sickening as all this was, there was one more piece of information that shocked Steve to the core. 

Howard’s notes, stating clearly that as Barnes had already been given the serum and was virtually dead anyway with no-one to miss or mourn him, he’d be the perfect candidate for further experimentation. 

Howard, authorising Zola’s further work within SHIELD.

The Winter Soldier Project, the project where SHIELD tried to reproduce Erskin’s Super Soldier formula, documented in meticulous detail. There was even the official statement outlining the project to the person authorised to sign it off. 

Signed by Howard Stark. 

Howard Stark…

“Steve. Steve? Fucks sake, Steve.”

Steve blinked awake to find himself stretched out on the kitchen floor with Jefferson’s panicked face looking down at him. 

“What?”

“’What?’ he says! If I’d known you were the fainting type I might have reconsidered being part of this shit.”

“I fainted?”

“Yes, Steve, you fainted. I had my head cut off once and even I didn’t faint.”

“Jesus.” Steve scrambled to his feet, Jefferson holding on to his upper arms until his balance was restored. 

Steve gawped at him, all the information they had just read suddenly swarming back into his brain. “Bucky’s alive,” he said. “He’s really alive!”

“Yes,” confirmed Jefferson. “I thought you already knew that?”

“Not for sure. Not till now. Not till… this.”

Steve seated himself back on his stool and pulled the folder close. 

“My God,” he whispered. “What they did to him.”

“Steve, you need to focus. If he’s alive then this file can help us find him, but you have to focus.”

“Right, yes.” Steve gulped and physically pulled himself together. “Is that coffee fresh? Cos I think I’m gonna need it.”

******

Three hours later they had a plan. A proper plan. A place, date and time where they knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, could be found. Because of a photograph taken from grainy surveillance footage. 

Footage from the 16th December 1991. 

******

“We have to get it right this time,” said Steve, taking one last look through their mission notes. 

“In fairness, we didn’t have much to go on before,” agreed Jefferson. “This time we’ve got a location down to the exact minute.”

With now clean hands, Jefferson picked up the surveillance photograph and peered at it closely. A shiver went down his spine as he stared at their target properly for the first time. A target whose face seemed hauntingly familiar. As he suddenly realised how much he truly looked like Bucky Barnes he glanced at Steve, wondering if he too had noticed. But Steve was engrossed in reading a report and genuinely didn’t appear to have seen any resemblance. 

Jefferson rifled through the file again, pulling out another photo – a clearer one. Yep, he was Bucky’s twin. Well, what the actual fuck. But why hadn’t Steve noticed? 

Jefferson gazed at the photo of this clean cut, World War 2 Sargent dressed in crisp, smart uniform, cap positioned on his head at an angle and wondered if Steve really was so obsessed with Bucky that this was still how he thought of him. And Jefferson with his long hair, and liking for ruffled shirts and velvet waistcoats, looked just about different enough for Steve not to have made the connection. 

Jefferson chewed at his bottom lip, thoughtfully. Could he use this new information to his own advantage?

Without appearing too obvious Jefferson moved any photos of Bucky to the back of the folder and piled other papers on top of them. 

“You got everything you need?” asked Steve, looking up at him. 

“Yeah. Sure. Everything I need. Absolutely.”

“Great.” Steve smiled. “Then suit up. It’s time.”

This time when they leapt into the hat they would go straight to the right moment in time. A moment where Steve knew for sure that Bucky would be there, no doubts, no uncertainty. 

Just one car, one motorbike, and a lonely road. 

And this time Jefferson didn’t bring up the Hat’s rule because he was hoping, if his plan worked out, that it wouldn’t be a problem. 

******  
Jefferson placed his hat on the floor before them, leaned forward and started it spinning. 

“Think about Bucky,” he instructed Steve. “Guide the hat to where he is.”

“Got it,” replied Steve, closing his eyes for a moment as he concentrated. 

The hat spun faster and faster and grew larger and larger, the room around them vanishing into a purple cyclone of pure magic. 

Jefferson grabbed Steve’s hand, gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and together, they jumped. 

******


	5. 5

1991

Steve and Jefferson were well hidden, covered by the trees and bushes that bordered the road with deep swathes of woodland. It was quiet, isolated, a moonless night, although there was a street-light nearby, alongside a nearby wall and gateway. 

“You know you can’t stop him?” whispered Jefferson. “You have to let him do what he came here for.”

“I can’t just sit here and let him kill Howard,” hissed Steve. 

“You have to,” replied Jefferson. “If you alter things now then you’ll affect everything in the future.”

“How do you know time travel works that way?” Steve argued back. “Maybe we were meant to be here to save him.” 

“You have to trust me. You don’t mess with what you don’t understand. Everything that happens from this point, including what happens to your Bucky, depends on us not interfering.” 

Steve tried to stare him down for a for seconds then his expression changed as realisation hit. 

“I have to let him kill Howard,” he said, resigned. 

Jefferson reached out to squeeze his shoulder in sympathy. “Yes. I’m sorry, but yes.”

And then there was no more time for discussion because, in the distance, came the sound of approaching vehicles. 

Steve checked his watch. 

“It’s time.”

Positioned as they were, they had a perfect view of the Cadillac as it approached, a powerful motorcycle quickly pulling alongside the large car. 

“Bucky,” Steve breathed.

Bucky threw something through the window of the car causing it to swerve and crash into the high wall. He spun the bike around, skidding his foot into the dirt as he did so. The front of the car was on fire, the hood buckled beyond recognition. Bucky kicked out the side stand and parked the bike, before striding over to the stricken vehicle. 

Breaking the lock with his metal hand he heaved open the trunk, quickly locating his target. A case containing five sachets of blue, unnatural looking, super solder serum. 

“The mission report said no witnesses,” whispered Jefferson. “If you’re going to look away, do it now.”

For a moment Steve didn’t know what to do until, suddenly, he did. He didn’t want to watch his best friend commit murder, as much as he didn’t want to watch Howard and his wife die. He turned away, closing his eyes and fervently wishing he could do the same with his ears. 

Jefferson continued to watch as Bucky made his way to where Howard had crawled out of the car. 

“Please. Help.” 

Bucky got a handful of Howard’s hair and pulled him upright by it and it was then that Howard recognised him.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

But the recognition was short lived as Bucky punched him in the face with the metal arm, once, twice. Howard Stark was dead. Bucky grabbed him by his jacket and dragged him back to the car, manoeuvring him into the driver’s seat. 

Another voice, a female. “Howard? Howard!” as Bucky moved to the passenger side of the car to finish the mission. 

No witnesses. 

Jefferson swallowed down bile in the back of his throat.

“Is it over?” asked Steve, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut. 

Jefferson got to his feet, picking up the large rock that he’d had by his side since they’d arrived. 

“Not yet,” he said, swinging the rock with all his might at the back of Steve’s head, watching with dull fascination as the man he had become friends with crashed forward on the ground, blood already starting to seep from the wound. 

Jefferson froze to the spot, staring down at Steve.

There was a click from just behind him. 

“Don’t move,” came a voice. “Who are you?”

In slow motion, Jefferson raised his hands and turned around, to look The Winter Soldier in the eye. 

“I’m you.”

******  
Bucky calmly pointed his gun directly at Jefferson’s chest.

“No, stop!” cried Jefferson, trying again. “You only have to look at me, look at my face.” He knocked the hat off and pushed his long hair back, before raising both his hands again. “Look at me. Who do you see?”

“You have my face,” replied Bucky. 

“Yes! I do.”

“Then it’s a mask.”

“No! Bucky, no. I’m you. I promise.” Jefferson tried everything he could to get Bucky to believe him, knowing it was the only way his plan would work. “I’m here from the future. You’re James Buchanan Barnes, and so am I, except I’m a portal jumper from the year 2012. I am you. I’m here with Steve.”

“Steven Rogers.”

“Yes!”

“But you hit him.” Bucky’s eyes flickered to where Steve still lay unconscious on the ground.

“There are reasons for all of this, I promise. But there is something we need to do, a mission we need to complete in order to protect each other.”

Still with the gun pointed steadily at Jefferson’s chest, Bucky took a step closer and peered directly into Jefferson’s face. His gaze ran over every inch of the face before him, his mouth, his ears, nose, eyebrows, even the way his stubble was growing. Until, finally, he looked deep into Jefferson’s eyes. 

“What mission?” 

******


	6. 6

Steve’s head was splitting, and he groaned as he struggled to consciousness. He really did need to stop making a habit of this. His eyelids flickered and, slowly, he tried to ease his eyes open. At least it was dark and he didn’t need to hide from the sun. He didn’t think he’d be able to cope with that on top of the headache.

Maybe he wasn’t awake after all, because what he saw could only be a nightmare. His best friend, Bucky Barnes, was standing over him pointing a gun straight at his face. 

“Bucky?” he whispered, wincing as his head throbbed along with the word. 

“What? Oh yeah. I’m Bucky, yes. And who are you?”

Steve blinked a few times. “I’m Steve. Your Steve. Don’t you know me?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know you.”

“You’re alive?”

Bucky laughed. “Of course I’m alive, no thanks to you. Thanks for leaving me behind in the snow, by the way. I had a whole life of fun because you did that.”

Steve struggled to sit up, watching as Bucky waved the gun in his direction. “I didn’t know you were still alive,” he said, with a frown, pressing a hand to the back of his head to look for blood. 

“Did you check? Did you actually bother to ask anyone? Or did you just skip off into the sunset with the first girl you saw?”

“Bucky…”

“Yes, I’m Bucky, I already said so, didn’t I?” Bucky tilted his head to one side. “But who are you really, eh? What do you want? Where are you from? Because the Steve Rogers I know died in 1945, right? Crashing a plane into an icefield.” He kicked at the soul of Steve’s foot. “Get up.”

Steve struggled to his feet only to be pushed against a tree. 

“Buck?”

“Come on, Steve. Tell me why you’re here? Were you trying to stop me carrying out my mission?”

“You mean killing Howard? He was our friend, Bucky.”

“Not my friend. And neither are you.” Bucky pushed him again and abruptly, because of and despite the headache, Steve had had enough. 

“Buck, stop.”

And Bucky threw a punch, hitting him hard on the jaw. 

“Don’t make me do this,” said Steve, stumbling. 

“Do what?” laughed Bucky. “Fight me? You look like you couldn’t fight a cold.”

“Stop!” Steve swung his fist, connecting with Bucky’s cheekbone and sending him sprawling backwards several feet to land on his backside. 

Bucky sat on the ground, staring up at him with a look of horror on his face. “You hit me,” he said. 

“Only because you hit me,” replied Steve. “Are you going to stop now?”

Bucky hesitated. “Well I suppose enough time has gone by.”

“Enough time for what?”

“What? Oh, nothing. And yes, I’ll stop hitting you.”

Steve stepped forward and held out his hand, hauling Bucky to his feet again. 

“What the hell, Buck?”

“Sorry, Steve.” Bucky smiled at him. “I just got a bit confused. Blame the cryo.”

“Can we say hello now?”

“Sure.”

Still with a little bit of reservation showing in his body language, Steve allowed Bucky to pull him into a hug. And at last Steve realised that someone was missing. 

“Hey,” he said, pulling away from Bucky’s hug. “Was there a guy here? Scruffy hair, dressed in a long brown coat and a silk scarf?”

“Oh!” Bucky replied. “Yes! Just as I found you I saw him, but you wouldn’t believe what he did so there’s no point me telling you.”

“Tell me. Trust me, I’ve probably heard worse.”

“Even if I said he jumped into a giant top hat and vanished?”

Steve put his head back and, despite his headache, laughed and laughed and laughed. 

******

Jefferson stepped out of the hat and waited for it to stop spinning, before reaching inside his coat to retrieve the squirming bundle of fur he had secreted into his pocket. Carefully manoeuvring it into his hand without giving it a chance to bite him, he crouched down and lowered his hand to the floor, allowing the rat to leap onto the ground. 

“Two come in, two go back,” he muttered. 

He stood up and look around, getting his bearings, then stomped off in what he hoped was the right direction. 

******

Steve puffed out a huge sigh, taking in their situation. “This is crazy,” he said, running his hand through his hair. 

“Which part?” commented Bucky.

“All of it.” Steve kicked a stone with his foot, directing it at Bucky who immediately stuck his foot out to catch it. “All I cared about was finding you and, well, I did that.”

“So, what happens now?” asked Bucky, kicking the stone back at him. 

“We don’t have much choice,” replied Steve. “Jefferson has vanished with our only way of getting back to my time which, I guess, means I get to stay here in yours. I missed out on 1991 the first time around, looks like I get another chance at it.”

“With me?” asked Bucky, stepping to the left to block the stone as Steve returned it again.

“Of course with you, Buck.” Steve kicked the stone away and took a few steps closer to his friend. “I know you’ve been through hell. Maybe I can help you get over that? Whatever it takes.” Steve took another step forward and reached out a hand, placing it gently on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m with you till the end of the line.”

Bucky tried to hold Steve’s gaze but his eyelids flickered and he glanced sideways at Steve’s hand. “You’re with me to the end of what, now?”

Steve focussed closely, his eyes narrowing as he took in every detail of the man standing before him, his manner, his stance, the cut of his hair. Bucky had been through a lot, of course he had, but there was no way he would forget those particular words. In a flash he grabbed at Bucky’s left hand and pulled off the leather glove, exposing a normal, human hand. 

“Jefferson?!”

******


	7. 7

“Ah! At last you’re back! Do you have anything for me?”

Bucky stared around him, taking in the book lined walls of the hexagonal shaped room, as Rumpelstiltskin rose from his seat at the huge spinning wheel. 

“No.”

“No?” Rumpelstiltskin looked confused as he held his hands out. “You’ve come back without it?”

“I came back without it because I got caught and put in jail,” said Bucky, glowering. “Because of you.”

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head, observing the other man for a moment or two. “It doesn’t seem to have done you any harm,” he commented. “In fact, I’d say you look as if your shoulders have broadened. Did they feed you a little too well, perhaps?” Rumpelstiltskin laughed maniacally at his own joke before falling serious again when Bucky didn’t laugh along with him. “You got caught then?”

“Yes,” replied Bucky, and then repeated with added emphasis, “And got put in jail.”

“Jail, eh? Hmm. Well we can’t have that. If you fell into hardship because of something I asked of you then it’s a shame. Indeed it is.” 

Rumpelstiltskin stepped a little closer, looking deep into Bucky’s eyes. 

“Is there anything else you feel you want to tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Well, deary. Something’s not right and I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He paused, as if something had just occurred to him. “Are you sure you’re my Jefferson, and not… somebody else?”

“Who else would I be?” replied Bucky, repositioning his hat and pushing it firmer on his head.

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Rumpelstiltskin fixed his piercing gaze upon him for a few moments more before finally seeming to accept what he was seeing as the truth. “Well, if you don’t have my prize, why are you here?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes in a somewhat intimidating manner. “Because I need your help to find someone, and you owe me.”

“Owe you, you say?”

“Yes.” Bucky stepped forwards and got hold of the lapels of Rumpelstiltskin’s coat, heaving him upwards so his feet were almost off the floor. “Because. I ended up. In jail.”

A flicker of fear passed over Rumpelstiltskin’s face. “Come now,” he said, licking his lips. “There’s no need for this. We are friends, yes?”

“I don’t need a friend,” replied Bucky, clenching his gloved fist a little tighter. “I need to find Grace.”

“Well of course I’ll help you find your little girl, deary. All you had to do was ask. But before we do that do you think you could… possibly… put me down?”

******

Jefferson cowered, holding his hand over his already closing eye. “Will you just stop hitting me?” he cried. “You’re stronger than you look!”

“You’re lucky it’s just one punch!” spat Steve. “That’s for leading me on, messing with my head. You deserve a whole lot more for pretending to help me find Bucky. You know how much it meant to me. We had a deal!”

“I spoke to Bucky.”

“What?”

Jefferson winced, delicately examining the damage on his face with his fingertips. 

“I spoke to Bucky. He has my hat, and he’s gone to rescue Grace because I knew he’d succeed where I would only fail.”

Steve gaped at him, his mouth hanging open. “You spoke to Bucky, after he killed Howard.”

“I did.”

“You knocked me out.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew that once you had your Bucky back, you’d double cross me and send me back to Asgard.”

“You don’t know me,” replied Steve, trying his best to calm himself down, “so I’ll allow you that. But I am a man of my word, always have been, always will be. Bucky and I would both have helped you find Grace. And instead he’s in your stupid world on his own, probably in danger, and we are stuck here!”

“Not stuck,” replied Jefferson, shaking his head. 

“But Bucky has your hat,” said Steve.

Jefferson leaned forward, conspiratorially. “Well,” he whispered. “In that case it’s a good job it’s not the only one, isn’t it?”

******

“You’re sure she’s here?” 

“Would I lead you wrong?” Rumpelstiltskin peered out from behind the tree he was hiding behind in order to point at the little wooden cabin. “After The Queen tricked you,” he explained, “she at least was true to her word. Your little girl has wanted for nothing since your neighbours adopted her.”

Bucky pulled a gun from the folds of his long coat and checked it for ammo. 

Rumpelstiltskin backed away at the sight of the weapon. 

“You didn’t say you were going to kill anyone,” he said, turning a few shades paler. 

“I’m not going to kill anyone,” replied Bucky. “I’m going to take the girl, and go.”

“She might have something to say about that!” cried Rumpelstiltskin. 

Bucky turned to look up into the beautiful eyes of the Evil Queen, Regina, who was stood between them and the cabin. Bucky blinked at the woman in front of him, taking in her full, satin gown, and voluptuous figure. 

“You always dress this way for a fight?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

Regina ran her hands down the soft fabric of her bodice. “This old thing? You like it, then?”

“It looks impractical.”

“Trust me, it can handle anything you intend to throw at it.”

“How do you know I will throw anything?”

“You’ve come for the child,” she said, “but you will not take her. I don’t know who you are, but you’re not her Father.”

“Don’t pretend you’re trying to protect her,” replied Bucky, taking a few steps closer. 

“I do have a great interest in self-protection, that much is true. Who are you?”

“Nobody who matters.”

Bucky squared up, making himself as broad as possible. An easier target, perhaps, but this way he looked so damned intimidating, and he knew it. 

“You can’t defeat her, deary,” snarled Rumpelstiltskin. “She has magic and you do not. Because you’re not Jefferson, are you?”

“No. I’m not Jefferson,” replied Bucky. “Get out of here. You’ve done your part, I don’t need you now.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t need telling twice as he retreated to a safe distance to watch the fight. 

“That’s right,” called Regina, “Run away, little man!”

Bucky was just trying to decide between guns and knives when Regina held her hand out, a small ball of fire appearing there and getting bigger every moment. 

“You can’t defeat me,” she cried. “You are nothing without magic!” And with all her power she hurled the ball of flame at Bucky, whose instinct was to raise his metal arm in protection. He didn’t even really think about whether he was aiming right or not, it just happened. The fire ball hit his arm, deflected, and went hurtling back to Regina, hitting her right in the heart. 

With a scream, the Witch burst into flame, one that completely engulfed her whole body until, in a matter of seconds, she was nothing but ash. 

Bucky didn’t waste any time. He strode into the cabin, immediately spotting Grace as she lay asleep on a small bed in the corner of the room. He picked her up with every care he possessed, making sure she didn’t stir and was safe and warm in his arms. 

When he got back outside, Rumpelstiltskin was kicking at the ashes where Regina had been. 

“They’re asleep,” said Bucky, gesturing back to the cabin. “Explain to them that she’s gone back to her real Father.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, speechless for once. 

And with one flick of the hat, Bucky and Grace were gone. 

******


	8. 8

2012

“I still don’t understand why we had to come back here,” said Steve, flinging open the door to his apartment and shoving Jefferson through it. “We could have used this other hat to go after Bucky, to help him.”

“I told you,” said Jefferson, shoving the tiny hat back in his pocket. “He’s meeting us here. If we’d tried to find him in my world it would have ended in disaster. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you? After all this chaos? I’ll never trust you again.”

Steve stomped into his bedroom, making lots of noise as he rifled through various drawers before returning to the lounge. 

“Here,” he said, throwing a bundle of clothes at Jefferson who caught them clumsily. “Now get out of Bucky’s clothes so I can see you as you really are, for a change.”

******

It was late, and Avengers Tower was as quiet as it ever gets. The common room was empty, the wide screen TV powered down, the only light coming from a lamp left on by the window. 

Then the silence was punctured by a strange sound, like wind, building and building, until, in the middle of the common room a huge top hat appeared. As it settled on the floor, Bucky emerged from it, still carrying the sleeping child in his arms. 

The hat quickly returned to normal size as he picked it up and put it on his head, then made his way to Steve’s apartment. 

Trying his best not to wake Grace, he closed the front door behind him and walked into the lounge where, inexplicably to Bucky, Jefferson was asleep, curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, a blanket over his shoulders and his head on a pillow.

Bucky stared down at him for a moment, before leaning down to shake his shoulder.

Jefferson’s eyes sprung open and he gazed first at Bucky and then at the bundle in his arms. 

“I’ve got her,” said Bucky, just as the little girl began to stir in his arms, stretching her legs out as he held her. 

“Where am I?” she asked, looking up at Bucky, who immediately adjusted his grip so that he could lower her to the floor, helping her to stand up as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Grace.” Jefferson breathed the word like a prayer, tears in his eyes. He sat up and shrugged off the blanket. 

“Are you my Papa?”

Jefferson appeared to be startled by the question for a moment. “Don’t you know me?”

Grace took a step backwards. “Not when there are two of you.” She looked up at Bucky, her confusion clear. 

“He’s not me,” replied Jefferson, trying his best to reassure her. 

Grace still seemed unsure. “Tell me something only my Papa would know,” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. 

Jefferson leaned forward. “Whenever it was time for tea,” he said, blinking away the tears that were forming in his eyes, “we would sit down with Mr Tortoise and the white rabbit I made you. He wasn’t quite the rabbit you wanted, but I tried my best to make him and you said you loved him more than anything…”

“Papa!” Grace rushed forward, flinging her arms around Jefferson’s neck. “Oh Papa, you found me!”

“I did,” gasped Jefferson, as he hugged her close. “I promised I’d be back, and now I am.”

“Hey, what’s going on…” Steve emerged from his bedroom, bed hair and rumpled clothes indicating that he, too, had been asleep. “Jefferson? Bucky…”

Bucky pulled off the long, brown coat and threw it onto the sofa, along with the hat and cravat. Lastly, he pulled off Jefferson’s borrowed gloves, revealing his metallic hand. 

“Yeah, Steve. It’s me. Is it okay if I come home too?”

“Oh, Buck.”

And the hug they had lasted longer than time. 

******


	9. 9

It was a beautiful sunny day, so it made complete sense that a trip to the park had been called for. The Avengers were allowed some down time occasionally, and there was nothing Earth threatening taking place right now. New Yorkers being New Yorkers, general passers by hardly glanced in their direction as the large group of Superheroes set up their picnic under the trees. 

Jefferson and Steve were taking it in turns to push Grace on the swing and she was squealing with laughter. 

Clint was asleep on the blanket, his head pillowed in Natasha’s lap.

Bruce and Tony were sat on two folding chairs, discussing time travel. 

“I wonder why Steve only used the hat to find Bucky, and not go back to marry Peggy?”

“Well because that would be crazy. Peggy had a wonderful life married to Daniel Sousa and didn’t need rescuing.”

And Thor was busy filling a row of plastic glasses with a heady, mead like, concoction. 

Steve left Jefferson to the swing pushing as he spotted Bucky making his way over to the group with two fists full of ice cream cones. 

“Hey,” he said, jogging over to him. “Let me help.”

“You mean, let you choose the best flavour.”

Steve smiled, broadly. “If you bought it for me, I don’t care what flavour it is.” He took some of the cones from Bucky and started to pass them out amongst the others. 

Bucky licked some melting ice cream from his metal hand, blushing when he saw he was being watched. 

“What?” he asked, turning so that the breeze blew his hair away from his ice cream instead of onto it. 

The sight of his friend eating ice cream in the park, healthy, happy, and alive, brought a sudden sting of tears to Steve’s eyes. He stared at him, thinking of all they had been through. How he had found Bucky when he hadn’t even known he was still alive, how he’d travelled through time and space to do it, and how they’d brought Jefferson and Grace into their lives as a result. 

“Nothing,” he said, before cheekily reaching out with his ice cream and dabbing it on Bucky’s nose. 

“Steve!”

Bucky gave chase, of course, but this time the only casualties were two melting pools of pistachio. 

******


	10. 10

EPILOGUE

“Your file is ready, Sir.” 

“That’s great, thank you Jarvis. Did you get all of it?”

“I believe so, Sir.”

Tony’s eyes lit up as he pressed play for what must have been the twentieth time. 

“This is just classic gold…”

The footage was grainy and old, but the sound quality was quite good, considering. Tony leaned closer to the screen in order to catch every little word. 

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“I could ask you the same thing. There’s only so much leather in the world and you seem to be wearing it all!”

“I don’t even understand what I’m meant to do with this. Is it a scarf?”

“It’s a cravat. Just, stop it, let me tie it for you.”

“And how are you meant to hide the absence of a metal arm, genius?”

“Well that’s the advantage of wearing lots of layers. I’ll keep the black shirt and your gloves. And you keep mine. See?”

“You’re not touching my hair.”

“No, well, luckily, it’s not that different from mine. You just need to… Froof yours a bit.”

“Froof?”

“Let me show you.”

“We don’t have time for this. He’s going to wake up.”

“He can’t, not yet. I still have to explain how to work the hat. Do I really need this many guns and knives?”

“Just give them to me…”

“Where are you going to put the rat?”

“Fucks sake…”

With the widest grin ever, Tony pressed pause, opened his unofficial You Tube account, and clicked Upload. 

After all, it was the least he could do.


End file.
